Waiting
by badeezer
Summary: AU/ Harry Potter is missing, having never received his Hogwarts letter due to the Dursleys disappearance. Severus Snape has been burdened with trying to find the Potter brat, and the Dark Lord is sure of winning against the Light without Harry Potter to defeat him. What has happened to Harry? And what fate will be bestown upon Severus Snape? (Summary sucks I know)
1. Chapter 1

Severus bent his head down to avoid the stooping doorway of the restaurant, his hair slick to his head from the pouring rain outside. He closed his umbrella and put it to the side of the oak wood door. The room was silent, except for the dry rasp of shoes on the expensive plush carpet. The décor was pleasant, in darker hues of nutmeg and black seats with crisp white tablecloths. To the right of the shop, farthest to the door, a row of booths, suitable for one or two people, overlooked the outside street, with the choice of black curtains to close the window view from passing onlookers, for privacy. As he surveyed the room, he could not see a single soul in sight, not even the waiter. The restaurant was empty.

'_Good,' _he thought. '_I would not be bothered.' _ He sighed softly, sliding his hands up to his temples, and massaged them to get rid of the impeding headache he was sure to have after that last meeting with Dumbledore. The old fool was getting irate and nervous, the Potter boy had not been found even after 17 years of searching. His caretakers, the Dursleys, had refused to give up the boy and had moved away from number 4 Privet Drive, leaving no t trace and telling none of their whereabouts. His Hogwarts letter had been sent back without an address. '_Probably thought himself higher than the rest of the wizarding community,' _Severus thought nastily to no one in particular.

His attention was temporarily diverted from his thoughts to the thin man that had entered the vacant room from a door to the left, and presumably, by the black second grade slacks that matched his unruly black hair, and the rumpled white shirt with a small black apron tired around his small frame, that this was to be the waiter. He eyed this individual warily, and murmured a spell to see if this individual was carrying a wand or possessed a threat. The diagnosis came back negative on both parts, as he expected because this was a muggle establishment.

"Where would you like to sit sir?" The waiter said quietly, his eyes downcast and hidden by his abundance of hair, which seemed to stick every which way. "Farthest to the door, if you will." Severus replied. The waiter flinched, and seemed startled by the deep baritone of his voice, and grabbed a menu off a nearby table and hurried to the farthest booth near the window.

"Would you like the curtains to be drawn sir?" The waiter seemed to ask with hesitance.

"If you will."

The waiter, who did not have a nametag, hastened to draw the curtains, and then hurried off with a small limp in his step back to, presumably, the back room, and emerged with a pitcher of ice water. Severus opened the menu, scanning the entrées with disconnected interest. He closed his eyes. '_The Dark Lord believes that the boy will not show up for the war.' _He thought,_ 'Given the child may not have any training of any sort, it may be better for him to be away from this bloody war.' _ He softly shuddered at the thought of the Potter boy emerging into the battle with no experience, like a lamb to the slaughter. He still remembered what the Dark Lord had said he would do when he got his hands on the boy.

_"What news have you for me, Severus?" The Dark Lord said with a nasally hiss to his voice. Severus tried not to shudder at his scrutinizing gaze, those red eyes peering into his thoughts and memories. He wished to look away from him, if only for a moment. "I have news from the Order. Dumbledore has become rash in his old age and has sent word to Fudge about Potter. They are conducting worldwide searches for the boy in hopes that they will find him somewhere in America or Canada. They have scheduled a raid at Malfoy manor to look for Dark artifacts." He said smoothly, in hopes that the Dark Lord would not look any farther into his memories and see Dumbledore also talking about a raid at Goyle Seniors summer home in Scotland._

_ "That is satisfying to hear, my faithful servant. The imbecile is panicking because his precious tool for the war has disappeared." He paused for a moment, and then said with a relishing smile that set Severus' teeth on edge, "We will find the boy first. It has come to my attention that you felt a certain, would you say….fondness for his mudblood mother? Perhaps you should show your loyalty by torturing the boy for us." He bared his teeth, "But before you do so, I would wish to break him in a bit, so bring him to my chambers when he is found." Severus' mind recoiled in horror, but all he said was, "As you wish, my Lord." Straightening his back as the meeting was called to an end, he apparated back to Hogwarts to speak to Dumbledore about this new task given to him._

Severus was knocked back into reality as he heard a small gasp, and opened his eyes to the waiter very narrowly grabbing the nearly full glass of water from falling into his lap, and Severus' hand reached out to steady the young man from falling right into his lap. In that moment, he had made eye contact with the waiter, and sucked in a breath. The young man looked away, apologizing quietly and walked to the back room. Severus' eyes were wide as he watched the man's retreating back and his uneven gait. He had sworn that the man had….

He shook his head lightly, and continued to look at the menu. Perhaps it was a trick of the lighting. He was sure that those eyes had died with his only friend.


	2. Chapter 2- Safety

Chapter 2 - Introducing Pacemakers

Severus sighed, put both hands in his hair and rested his elbows onto the cluttered desk, filled with papers, essays, ink, quills, and his wand. His preposition to Dumbledore for the DADA position had been declined, and Dumbledore had said something about his position in the Potions class being incredibly helpful, not to mention he had given it to Lupin, the mangy werewolf. The Dark Lord had him working overtime, creating a complex potion with rare ingredients, designed to be worked into the skin, like a salve, to make it less penetrable. Not only did he have to spend most of his free time, which mostly consisted of eating and sleeping, creating a potion to a man who had supposedly rose from the dead, but he had also gotten behind on his grading for his classes. He pulled his hands out of his hair, glaring when the strands cascaded down his face. His hair was getting too long and he needed a cut. He opened his desk drawer, grabbed a black ribbon, tied his hair back and stood, grabbing his wand and exited the Potions classroom.

As he reached the outskirts of Hogwarts' grounds, he pulled his wand from where it resided in his sleeve, and apparated straight to the alleyway beside the small restaurant in Merthyr Tydfil, England, he had visited last week, deftly named 'Pacemakers,' on Dynevor St. near the fire station. He transfigured his robes into something more presentable that a muggle man had been wearing when he had passed him, a black Armani suit with silver cufflinks, and had donned a green scarf transfigured out of a glass vial he had in his pockets to stave off the cold. The warmth of the restaurant enveloped him, like warm water, and he blinked slowly to become accustomed to the dark lighting of the room. There were two tables already occupied, a party of six and another of two, none near the booths. The waiter from last week was serving drinks, and had turned at the noise of the door opening. "One second sir!" He called, setting down the drinks onto the table, and hurrying over. Severus noted his limp had severely increased.

"Table for one?" The man said, looking instead at his collar or over his shoulder instead of his eyes. Severus inclined his head once, and the waiter brought him to the same booth he had sat in last week. He sat, and found that his table had a candle, while the others did not. How odd. "I will be right back with some water."

The waiter walked quickly away, attending to the other tables and disappearing into the back room.

He moved the candle to the side, and pulled a book out of a pocket in his suit that was to help with brewing the Teregum Inpenetrabiilis potion, and had gotten quite lost in his book by the time the waiter had arrived with his water.

"May I have a half lager of Pinot Noir, and a starter of Kupatsha?"

"Of course sir, would you care for anything else?"

"No that is quite enough."

The waiter nodded, took the wine menu, and began to walk away when Severus realized something. "Wait there is one more thing." He said, his voice shaper than necessary, and the waiter flinched, almost dropping the pitcher of water. He turned, and came back to the table. "Might I inquire for your name?"

The waiter seemed to almost start, and smiled a bit, his eyes downcast. Maybe Severus was wrong, with the way the light was, his eyes seemed to be green, or maybe a strange mix of green and grey, framed by thick black lashes and round black wire frames, underneath a set of regular sized black eyebrows to match his hair, although the only blemishes he could see on the mans face was a small scar through the corner of his right eyebrow, and a small scar under his jawline he had somehow seen when he was sitting down due to the light of the candle.

"I apologize if I seem startled," the waiter said, his hand reaching towards the hair on the back of his head, and then realizing the action was informal, awkwardly lowered his hand, "Not many people ask me for my name sir."

"That is quite alright, id only asked because of my plans to frequent this restaurant more often." Severus stood, and smoothly held out his hand to the waiter, "Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Severus Snape."

The man took his hand, almost as if he was holding a delicate and precious bird.

"Harry, sir. It is a pleasure to meet you."

Severus stiffened slightly, and released the young mans hand, sitting down again. Harry? That name was unusual in the wizarding world, and even more so in the muggle world. It may only be coincidence, but maybe not. He would have to collect information from him to make sure, but the charm he had used showed that the boy didn't have a wand on his person. Harry looked into his eyes, smiled and told him that his Kupatsha would be ready soon, and walked away. Severus wondered why he had a limp. Maybe he was born with it?

Another waiter with chestnut brown hair brought his wine, and he sipped it idly while flipping through the pages of his book. The Teregum Inpenetrabiilis potion required very rare ingredients, and also illegal ones, such as powdered unicorn blood and inland taipan venom, one of the most venomous snakes in the world, which was illegal to breed and even more so illegal to harvest in the wizarding world. Not to mention three phoenix feathers, willingly given. He wouldn't look forward to the trip to Knockturne to find Lord Pultridge, an avid snake breeder with a tongue as venomous as his snakes, and a temper to match. His prices were high, but so was the thought of failing the Dark Lord again. He quelled the impulse to wince at the thought of the many cutting hexes and the Cruciatus curse he had been subjected to when he was unable to procure the required amount of colophon beetle antennae. He sighed again, touching the bridge of his nose with his thumb, and almost missed the arrival of the waiter, Harry, with his appetizer. As he was putting the meal in front of Severus, he noticed the way that Harry's hands were covered in scars, nicks, burns, and it seemed that one or two of his finger on his right hand had healed improperly.

"What has happened to your hands?" Severus inquired, cursing himself when Harry pulled his hands back faster than if they were about to be chopped off, and dropping his eyes to the floor, he mumbled, "Accident with the stove."

Severus raised one eyebrow, and didn't comment. The limp, his flinching, the scars on his face, and now the obvious amount of physical strain and lacerations on his hands were pointing towards signs of physical abuse, but this boy could only be seventeen or eighteen years old. He narrowed his eyes slightly, watching the way the boy moved when he walked away, and realized that he held himself stiffly, as if his back was in immense pain. Curious. Severus wondered who had done that to the boy, certainly either his relatives or significant other.

It wouldn't do much for him to think about it anyways.

Severus thought about Potter for a second, and remembered that the current owner of number 4 Privet Drive in Little Whinging, Surrey, was a muggle man by the name of Simon Alexander, supposedly, a magician. He sneered inwardly. Of course, of all coincidences, a crackpot magician would be in Potters old home. Putting Potter out of his head, he sipped his wine one more, and dug into his food, sampling it and was surprised that something he had randomly picked out of the menu actually agreed with his palate. In the warm candlelight, he ate, read his book, and was enclosed in a sense of safety for the first time in months.

**Authors Note: Simon Alexander is an actual magician, in which if you look up number 4 Privet Drive in google maps, it shows his house.** **Merthyr Tydfil is also real, as well as Dynevor St. and the firehouse.**

**On another note, thank you very much for supporting me and reviewing my work. The chapters are short, I know, and not much has happened so far, but the chapters will be longer as the plot thickens.**

**See you guys in a few days!**


	3. Chapter 3- Fear

Chapter 3 - Potions and Werewolves

Sparks flew from his wand, the morning light settling in an elongated memory of another morning, resting on his shoulders like the weight of his anger. 'How dare he,' Severus raged, 'how dare he presume to think that this job is easy.' Letter in hand, he stalked back and forth, the thought of Dumbledore's smiling face pushing him to rage. His hand swept across his desk, spilling ink, papers, and everything crashed against the stone wall. Unsatisfied, he presumed to stalk across the room, throwing open the door to his classroom, snarling at the students that waited there and stormed down the hall towards Dumbledore's office.

He approached the stone gargoyle, snarling the password, which happened to be another ridiculous muggle confection, and didn't bother to knock, instead throwing both double doors open in a fit of rage. "What is the meaning of this? Do you think these things just disappear on their own? It is my job and my job only to ensure the task is done." He fumed. Dumbledore, which had been sitting at his desk, did not even flinch at the sudden intrusion, nor the angry words directed at him. Instead, he smiled softly, and raised his hand, interrupting Severus.

"You do not need to be angry, Severus, Remus is only trying to help you." Dumbledore stated calmly, "I am sure that this task will be easy to manage with both wizards, especially one as skilled as you."

"This task is mine! If the Dark Lord were to find out another wizard, especially a lycanthrope, were to be trying to find the Potter boy, he would not hesitate in torturing the fool." He snarled, pushing his hair away from his face from when it became dislodged in his frustrated pacing. Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, his hands pushed together to form a steeple. His calm gaze was infuriating, did he not realize that the dumb wolf's life was in danger? Severus would be forced to torture him, by the command of the Dark Lord. He shuddered. As much as he despised the mutt, he would not want or wish his death, neverless by his hand.

The second that thought came into his head, a familiar burning pain seared up his arms, like a hot poker being stuck into every vein. He hissed softly, trying to stave it off. "The Dark Lord calls me. I must go to him but do not think our conversation is done. You will not have that wolf trying to do my job." Without waiting for a reply, he stalked out of Dumbledore's office, flicking his wand to open the door.

He apparated directly to the Deatheater meeting, ignoring Wormtail's snivelling and Bellatrix's smirk, but was intercepted halfway towards the main hall. Lucius gripped tightly to his forearm, pulling him into a side hallway, and put his hands to his lips. "Quickly, I must speak with you in private. This matter is urgent." Lucius said softly to him, stealing a worried glance towards the main hall entrance. He led him to a room with white furniture, a chaise and table made of tempered bamboo. "What matter is so urgent that you would pull me aside from the Dark Lord's call?" He narrowed his eyes at Lucius. Lucius cast a Silencing spell before he spoke.

"The Dark Lord will tell you of a task to kill Dumbledore, by my sons hand. He wishes for my son to join the ranks, and he is angry. He suspects you of spying, withholding information and I fear that if you do not find the Potter boy soon, that you shall be killed. He will enter your mind tonight, do not fight him too much, only withhold what is completely necessary." Lucius spoke rapidly, tugging him towards the door again, and pushed him back out of the door. "Go, before he notices your absence." Severus' eyes widened in surprise, a feeling of dread pooling like festering pus into the bottom of his ribcage. The Dark Lord's way of entering your mind was nothing short of brutal rape, an action that the foul man-no- monster reveled in. One of the things he would order his followers to do to break his prisoners before questioning was an action such as that. He swallowed, nodded, and turned heel to face the Dark Lord.

He entered the main hall, and sat in a chair to the side of Goyle Sr. The inner circle members began to filter into the room, sitting in the chairs around the table, awaiting their master. The Dark Lord entered the room, and all conversation stopped, closing their throats with a well known fear that held on long after he had left. His repugnant magic held pregnant in the air, like a oily film settling amongst ones skin, and his nails seemed to gleam in the dim light of Malfoy Manor. Nagini, the large snake, was by his side, hissing softly to her master, tongue flickering. The Dark Lord seemed amused, said something to Nagini, and sat down. Severus could feel his hand trembling slightly in his lap. Surely the Dark Lord would not feed him to the wretched beast?

"It has come to my attention that the current attempts to kill Dumbledore have not succeeded, as the Malfoy heir has failed to finish his task." His red eyes flickered over his godson. "Now, what is the punishment for failing a task such as this?" The Dark Lord looked over at Lucius, who paled and seemed to swallow visibly before answering, "The Cruciatus, My Lord?" Whispery, cruel laughter permeated the room, the Deatheaters always ready for a show, as long as it was not them that the Dark Lord turned his concentration to. "You are quite right, Lucius. Care to do the honors? Or does your loyalty to me end here?" The Dark Lord grinned tightly, the action becoming malevolent and cruel. Lucius nodded, and drew his wand. "Draco, stand."

Fear clung to the younger Malfoy like a second skin. Shaking, he stood, and held his head up high, looking his father in the eyes. Lucius hesitated for the merest of moments, and by the nod of Narcissa, he whispered, "Crucio." The Malfoy heir's face crumpled from its proud and impassive mask, his eyes twisting closed and his hands curling tightly into fists. He fell to the floor, his head making a sickening cracking noise as it collided with the edge of the oak table, his body spasming wildly, but he did not utter a sound. A minute passed, and the Dark Lord gave Lucius permission to lift the spell, but Draco's body did not stop twitching, even after the spell was lifted. His legs seemed to be doing a demented dance, his fingers curling and uncurling. Severus hastened forward, pulling a vial out of his robes, and forced the liquid down the Malfoy's throat, coaxing it down gently through a couple of well aimed spells. His tremors ceased, and the Dark Lord laughed, high and almost joyfully.

"Now onto other matters. Severus, it has come to my attention that only four out of ten times, these raids against us have been stopped or intercepted by Aurors or even Dumbledore himself. It would be very unwise to be dishonest towards your master, don't you think?" Voldemort seemed to chuckle in his cruelty, lifting his hand and beckoning Severus forward. "I think it would be very good to see some of your...encounters first hand, as it will. Open your mind to me, Severus."

He made eye contact with Severus, and images flashed in his head, Dumbledore speaking of raiding Malfoy Manor, his quest to find Harry Potter, the failed attempt to vanquish the Dark Lord, all things that Severus had already told him, or things he had experienced firsthand. Severus could feel every touch inside of his head, every scrape of nails along memories, everything held private inside of his head being torn open, revealing nothing that the Dark Lord did not already know. He pushed away the conversations with Dumbledore, his private thoughts about the Dark Lord, his pain, his fear, and tried to hold on to the corners of his mind where they seemed close to bursting. His temple pulsed as the Dark Lord finally withdrew from his mind, smirking. "It seems that the accuser of your treachery was, in fact, wrong. McNair, step forward." McNair's eyes widened in fear, the whites of his eyes flashing as he stood and walked to stand in front of the Dark Lords chair. "Crucio." The Dark Lord seemed to say it lazily, disinterested in watching one of his dear followers squirm on the ground with pain. As McNair was being tortured, a seemingly lifeless body floated overhead into the room. The small gasps of pain indicated she was alive, but only just and in a considerable amount of pain.

She looked around the room with squinted eyes, and made eye contact with Severus. The Dark Lord cancelled the spell on McNair, and instead focused his attention on the witch floating above their heads. "To those of you who do not know, we are joined tonight by Miss Charity Burbage, who until recently, taught at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Her speciality was Muggle Studies." A tittering of laugher was heard in the expansive room. "It is Miss Burbages belief that muggles are not so different from us. She would, given her way, have us mate with them." Disgusted noises erupted in the room. "To her, the mixture of magical and muggle blood is not an abomination. That its something to be encouraged." Her eyes flickered wildly, fear emanating from her tortured body. Flecks of white spittle flew from her mouth as she feverishly whispered, "Severus." Her hair flickered in the open air, thirty cruel eyes watching her gleefully. "Severus, please. We...We're friends." She gasped. Severus watched her face, holding a blank mask over his but he could feel his façade cracking. The Dark Lord's eyes flickered, a silent madness showing through him as he laughed again. "Friends? I do not think so." He paused, flicked out his wand, and said, "Avada Kedavera." Lifeless, her body thumped onto the table, her hands uncurling. Severus' mind recoiled in horror, the body of one of his coworkers, which had only shown him kindness, lay before him.

"See to it that you find Harry Potter soon. I do not need to remind you if you fail." The Dark Lord hissed, staring at him. "Yes, My Lord." With those words, Severus turned tail and fled.

**Authors Note: Thank you all for reviewing and following this story! I find it hard to get myself motivated, as my depression goes up and down from time to time. Thank you all for the kind reviews and words, they really do help. **

**-badeezer**


	4. Chapter 4 - Snow Falls

**Authors Note:**

**Thank you all for the wonderful reviews again! I am happy to say that I am feeling a lot better in the past few days, but I feel a little bit of a cold coming on. By the way, the reason Tino does not like cheese is because rats and mice, get this, are lactose intolerant. (Tino is actually modelled after a pet mouse I have, she even has the same name and colouring so please be respectful if you do not like rats or mice.)**

**Anyways, on with the adventure.**

**-badeezer**

Chapter 4 - Snow Falls

Harry treaded lightly over the snow, clutching his sweater to his body as a vain effort to shield himself from the oncoming storm that had brought with it a deadly cold. He hoped that Uncle Vernon wouldn't lock him outside again this winter, last year was bad enough.

He shivered lightly as the snow seeped into his old runners, sighing lightly when he felt his socks squish against the thin sole of his shoes. In fact, every part of him seemed to be a little bit thin, from his threadbare sweater to his holey shirt and trousers, but he couldn't wear his work clothes or else they would be ruined. They were the only nice thing he owned, in fact.

The only thing he liked about his appearance was a thin scar on his forehead shaped like a bolt of lightning, but had often kept it hidden beneath his fringe of hair because of how Dudley's friends had started to call him names after noticing it, although they weren't very original when the only thing they could come up with was either 'Scar Head' or 'Zeus,' but he rather liked that last one. Who wouldn't want to be compared to a god, after all.

His hair, which stuck every which way on his head like a mop, was black and unruly and made Aunt Petunia angry a lot. When he was younger, she would hack it all off, leaving it a disaster. He was so embarrassed that the other students in his elementary school would make horrible fun of him, because of Dudley, but somehow when he woke up the next morning, it seemed to have all grown back exactly the way it was before. If Aunt Petunia hadn't freaked out the next morning, and Harry hadn't been punished by Uncle Vernon for his 'freakishness,' then he would have thought it was all a dream.

Warm air embraced his cold frame, and he smiled lightly. The grocer, Martin, caught sight of him and beamed happily.

"Hello Harry, fancy doing some shopping on this blustery day? There seems to be a storm brewing." Martin's thick Irish accent was always nice to hear.

"Aunt Petunia sent me to pick up something nice for tonight dinner. We're expecting guests so I suppose some potatoes, steak, and carrots with peas would be suitable." Harry smiled back.

"I'll be right back with your steaks, Harry."

Martin disappeared behind the counter, and Harry was left to his own devices, picking out a couple pounds of potatoes, as they lived very far from the small grocery and it was hard to walk in this weather, and two bags of large carrots, with three cans of already baked peas. As he made his way to the cashier counter, he paused near the cooler of soda. The Coca Cola cans had small pictures of Santa on them, and he wondered what Dudley would be getting for Christmas this year. He made the mistake a couple of years back to move Dudley's present when he was vacuuming the carpet on Christmas day. Dudley had thrown a huge tantrum, screaming and crying even though a ten year old shouldn't be having such a large reaction (quite like Dudley, he supposed), and Uncle Vernon had taken pleasure from punishing him. He had called it Harrys "Christmas present." He made sure never to touch another Christmas present ever again after that. His line of thought was disrupted as Martin emerged from the back room.

"Here you are Harry. That will be 30 pounds please." Martin said cheerfully.

Harry pulled the required money out of his pocket, making sure that all of the money Aunt Petunia had given him was there in his pocket, as one of his pockets had a very large hole running through it, and exited the shop with a happy wave to Martin.

The second he turned around, he accidentally rammed into something tall, steady, and black. Groceries bounced away into the snow, and his arms flailed wildly, trying to catch his balance but failing as his jeans met the slick pavement. He groaned slightly, as his glasses had fallen somewhere into a nearby snowbank, rubbing his lower back. He looked up, squinting, and realized the thing he had walked into was not, in fact, a pole, but a person. He scrambled to his feet, despite his protesting leg and cuts on his back.

"I-I'm terribly sorry sir, I wasn't looking where I was going." Harry stammered awkwardly, startling as a deep oaken baritone melted through the air.

"That's quite all right, young man. It is not always that I happen to run into an excellent waiter and manage to knock him right off of his feet."

His spectacles appeared on his face all of a sudden, and he recognized the man to be Mr. Snape, a customer from Pacemakers, which he had found to be quite polite and, dare he say, a bit charming. Harry blushed a bit at this inner thought and the compliment, and looked around for the dropped groceries, but found that he could not find a single one. He looked back to , and saw that was holding out the groceries to him. How had he collected them all so fast? He had sworn that they had gone and rolled everywhere...

"Where are you heading now, Harry?" Mr. Snape asked, the timbre of his voice seeming to push through his thoughts, and he snapped his eyes up towards 's face. In the lamplight, Harry noticed the pale skin framed by deep black hair that was pulled back into a loose ponytail at the nape of his neck, the unusual clothing that seemed to have copious amounts of buttons on them, and the deep black eyes just over a slightly large nose. His palms became suspiciously sweaty as he realized that he had been staring.

"I was just heading home to cook dinner, sir. My family is having guests over."

"Cook dinner? I would think that your mother or father would do that task, since you have had to go out on such a chilly evening to fetch the supplies for said dinner, nonetheless having guests over. " Mr. Snape raised one eyebrow.

Harry looked away nervously. Usually people didn't ask him questions.

"No sir, usually I cook the meals in the household. It would be very hard for my mum or dad to cook for me since they're... well..not really around anymore."

When Harry met Mr. Snape's eyes again, they seemed to express mild surprise, and a little bit of worry.

"Not around? Surely they are around enough to cook you a simple breakfast."

"N-not really sir, since they are...deceased." Harry ducked his head slightly, feeling a bit embarrassed that he had told this stranger something that would possibly make him uncomfortable, which was never good if it made him angry. Mr. Snape's eyes widened, and then he sighed slightly, pushing his hands through the front of his hair, dislodging a piece from its immaculate ponytail. What he said next shocked Harry, as he wasn't expecting such a response from a man who was definitely from a much higher class than him.

"I apologize for bringing up such a sensitive topic. I did not know. As a form of apology, would you like for me to accompany you back through this fog to your home? It is quite late, and I would not want any harm to befall you."

Harry blinked in shock, his mind going blank for a moment as he registered Mr. Snape's words, and then scrambled his brain to reply, going to refuse because Uncle Vernon would be furious if he saw a stranger walking with Harry, but instead said, "That would be very nice, thank you sir."

Mr. Snape seemed to almost smile, before offering his arm out to Harry. Trying not to blush, he hooked his arm into the other mans, and began to walk in the direction of his home. Strangely, the air around the man seemed almost warm, as if he was standing in the sun and not in a cold, windy alleyway. How odd.

Their walk was mostly silent, and snow began to fall again, cascading around them and settling into their hair. Harry dared a glance at Mr. Snape, and tried to ignore how pleasant it was to be interacting with someone normally. Dudley made sure that nobody at their high school would befriend him, unless of course if they wanted to become a victim to the so-called game of "Harry-Hunting," where Dudley and his friends would chase him around until they caught him, sometimes to cause him bodily harm. When he was younger, there was a time where Dudley and his friend were doing so, and he had somehow ended up on the roof. Despite his attempts to explain that he didn't know how he had gotten up there, he had been suspended from school and Uncle Vernon had been furious, locking him in his cupboard in their old house for almost a week.

Their new house wasn't much better, with four bedrooms that included Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia's room, Dudley's room, Dudley's second room for all of his toys and games and whatever else he wanted in there, which mostly consisted of junk, and a guest room which overlooked the garden, that Harry worked on in the spring and summer.

Harry's room was a small crawlspace located under the stairs that was actually slightly larger than the cupboard which had served to be his room in their old house, that had a thin mattress, a lumpy pillow and sometimes even a bed sheet to put on it, and a shelf. In the farthest corner of Harry's room was a small hole in the concrete, where one of Harry's only friends lived. She was a small thing, a silver-ish grey with red eyes, so he supposed she had been a pet at one point, with long whiskers and a magnificent tail. Most people weren't fond of rats, but Harry loved them. Tino (short for Valentino), as he had named her, would come out when it was quiet and perch on Harry's knee, begging for food and would let him pet her and even pick her up. She would even stay to sleep with Harry sometimes. The Dursley's were not fond of pets, unless of course if they were dogs, and Aunt Petunia would have a fit if she knew Tino had been living in the house, so Harry kept her a treasured secret.

Most of his food, if he was given any, was offered to Tino and he found it amusing that she, in fact, did not like cheese.

Harry was pulled out of his thoughts quite abruptly as he realized that they had turned onto his street, a quiet and unassuming place with a front lawn for every house, everything pristine and perfect.

"This is my stop sir." Harry tried to say cheerfully, wincing as his voice cracked slightly. Mr. Snape nodded accordingly, and Harry withdrew his arm from where it resided, nestled warmly against Mr. Snape's side.

"Thank you for accompanying me to my house. I appreciate it very much."

"You are welcome, Harry. I shall see you at Pacemakers sometime?"

"Likewise, sir."

And with that, Mr. Snape began to walk away through the snow and the fog, leaving Harry to stand on the front lawn, wondering when he would see the man again.


	5. Chapter 5-Hair

**AN: Hey guys, sorry for not updating in a while. My family is having problems right now and school hasn't been so great. But I have good news! Tino, my mouse, is pregnant and about to have babies within the next 9-10 days so my baby boy, Luuka, which is a champagne brown with black eyes and the suckiest most baby personality and Tino are going to be parents! I've been setting up new cages for the litters and such so hopefully everything will even out and the posts will be much more frequent. Thank you for reading so far!**

**-badeezer**

Snow crunched heavily under his thick soled boots as he walked away from the young man, trying to keep his anger in check. That boy was thinner than a rake, and the feeling of Harry's threadbare sweater showed that he may only be poor, but by the state of his groceries and the house Severus had escorted him to spoke differently. He had cast a Warming charm on him and the boy once he realized that his state of attire would hardly keep the young man substantially warm. By the state of the house his family lived in, he was no pauper either. 'He would be a seventh year if he was at Hogwarts, but he's only a muggle. There isn't much I can do, less care about.'

Severus shook his head slightly, because abuse was abuse, muggle or magical blood alike. He turned into an alleyway and, shrouded by fog, he apparated to Spinners End. The anti-apparation wards on his house didn't impede his ability to apparate directly into his house. He stamped his shoes angrily into the welcome mat, shaking off the snow that surely got into the young mans sneakers, freezing his toes.

He flicked his wand through the house, opening dusty curtains and setting the kettle to boil. He placed a well aimed cleaning charm on the stack of dishes, which began to clean themselves and put themselves away, and then took off his coat, putting it over an armchair in the sitting lounge, the first room of the house. The hallway lead to the kitchen, which overlooked the lounge and dining room, which were in fact, one room, and then met the stairs to the second level where the bathroom, and three bedrooms resided, along with the basement level, which consisted of a smaller sitting room/office and his personal lab, completed with storage space for his potions ingredients. He sighed, yanking the slowly falling ribbon tying his hair back out of his hair. He had an aversion to keeping it this long, for certain reasons.

_Severus sat in the dining room with his mother, doing his homework for school late at night. Even though he wasn't allowed to go to Hogwarts yet, his mother had somehow come up with funding to send him to primary school. His hair was let down, they couldn't exactly afford hair-ties when he seemed to lose them all the time, and he kept it long for his mother, which seemed to like combing her fingers through it when she wasn't locked away in her room. He was just finished reading his rough draft for his book report when his father entered the house, his body like a freight train, picking up speed and pulling pictures off the walls, bumbling, stumbling. His glazed and drunken hazy gaze fell on Severus, and his hand twitched, the half empty beer bottle falling onto the already stained welcome mat._

_"Boy," His father rasped, making Severus flinch slightly at the noise, "Clean up this mess." Severus hastened to the kitchen putting down the book quickly and grabbing a grungy rag that his mother had used to clean up his fathers puke the night before and still had the strength to cook breakfast the next morning like she hadn't lost her appetite a long time ago. He began to mop up the beer, putting the beer bottle right side up so no more spilled on the ground. The acidic smell of beer hit his nose, and he wrinkled it slightly. Finished with his task, he tried to walk around his father to put his homework away. His father hated messes._

_Suddenly, his father gripped his arm tightly, leaning on him so hard he thought his knees might give out underneath him. "You missed a spot," His father laughed harshly, "Right here." All of a sudden, his nose was pressed into the worm hardwood floor. He struggled to get his arms underneath his so he could push himself into a crawling position, but he felt the harsh grind of his fathers heeled boots dig into his back. He cried out as his father yank his head back by his hair so he could show him exactly where he had missed a spot cleaning up the beer. His mother had stood up, fingers gripping the edge of the table as she leaned onto it, going as white as her face with tension. "See boy? Right there." His fathers voice was like the broken edge of a liquor cabinet, and his breath was even worse, fanning against the top of his scalp. "As punishment, you'll be a good boy and do as I say, right?" Severus gritted his teeth against the pain as he tried to nod. "Then lick it up, boy."_

_His father released his hair, stepped off his back and stood there, swaying with drunken fevour. His eyes were bright with cruelty, and his mother had tried to put her hand on his fathers arm, only to be slapped viciously across the face, throwing her back against the table. "Don't you interrupt woman!" He snapped angrily. Shaking, Severus slowly inched towards the tiny puddle of beer and, swallowing his pride, he scraped his tongue along the floor. His father chuckled, as if good-naturedly, and lumbered past the kitchen up the stairs._

_His mothers cold hands pressed to his forehead, her hands trying to fix his hair but stopped abruptly when he flinched, curling away into a ball. He couldn't recall the last time she touched him tenderly after that._

The kettle let out a little tune, the magical version of the whistle that he had charmed it to do, and poured it into a small fixing of chamomile and labrador tea he had created in a mug. His hands were warmed by the hot and refreshing cuppa, the warm smell of chamomile permeating the air. He stepped downstairs to his lab, and began to wash his hands to handpick his ingredients for the potion he was to make for the Dark Lord.

The Dark Lord made sure to never harm his hands, as they were his only use due to his craft. Making good potions was hard to do when you cant hold them steady.

A couple of frustrating hours later, he headed upstairs. Sweaty, hair greased down annoyingly due to the failed potion fumes, he went to the bathroom to take a shower. Lathering his hair in a massaging motion, he closed his eyes as he submerged his head under the shower's spray. Water trickled into his open mouth, warm, soothing, reminding him soon to eat and drink something substantial. His trip to the small village after the Deatheather meeting was taxing on his still healing body. Turning off the shower and toweling his body, he headed back downstairs with a towel around his waist only to be met with the eyes of Minevra's head sticking out of the hearth's fire.

Flustered by her gaze, he quickly made sure to fix his towel to a more suitable position until he snarled, "What do you want Minevra, I am currently off duty and wishing not to be disturbed for the rest of the evening." The animagus laughed cheerfully, informing him that he was needed by Madam Pomfrey for certain bone correcting potion for a certain Gryffindor-Slytherin Quidditch match that was done in the terrible fog, and then popped back out of sight.

Sighing, Severus went back upstairs to get changed again for the day.


	6. Chapter 6 - Skin and Skirts

Chapter 6 - Skin and Skirts

Harry's eyes slid back into focus as Dudley nudged him hard, pushing him into the cold handle of the car's interior. Nudging his glasses back up his nose, he tried to keep from touching Dudley's side. The Dursley's had decided to take Dudley to London for the weekend for new clothes, due to the fact that he simply began to grown out of all of his clothing. Since Dudley was currently going to the same public school Harry was, Harry tried to look as presentable as possible, but to no avail, he couldn't make his clothing look good enough. A couple of teachers used to ask about it, but quickly stopped when the Dursley's complained about the teacher's trying to get into their personal and financial affairs. Harry snorted. As if the Dursley's actually spent money on him.

He was broken out of his reverie as Dudley's friend, Piers, jostled into him, his elbow catch his slender jaw. Smarting, he rubbed it softly and looked away at Pier's smirking face, looking out the window as they entered London.

"Mummy, can Piers and I have some money to spend? I want to shop by myself this time." Dudley whined slightly as they began to park. Wordlessly, Aunt Petunia handed him a large sum of money and, in less than two seconds, Piers and Dudley were out the door. Aunt Petunia glared at him, then handed him a couple of pounds. His eyes widened.

"Go spend these on something presentable for school. I expect you to be back here at this very spot in two hours."

"Yes Aunt Petunia."

Harry scrambled quickly out of the car before they had the chance to change their minds. Harry usually wasn't brought to London with them, ever since the zoo incident with the large snake that seemed to nod at him. He had a soft spot for snakes. Whenever he found one freezing outside, he would find some warm rags and a flower pot to put them in, even heating up some stones by boiling them and then putting them in there with the snake to keep it warm. The one thing he kept to himself besides Tino, which was in his pocket at this very moment, sleeping, was the fact that sometimes he thought the snakes talked to him.

They would thank him for his hospitality, and he found that in the coming years after saving the first one, that a large abundance of snakes all shapes, sizes and species would be found in his backyard. He often bemusedly wondered if the snake had told all of his snake friends about him.

Shaking his head, Harry wandered the many streets of London, peering into the shops for suitable shirts. He wandered into a store that seemed to have lots of teenagers in it. Maybe he could find something here?

He went over to the Men's section of the store, rifling through the many button-up shirts that were all too big for him. Frustrated, he raked his hand through the fringe of his hair. He suddenly pitched forward as something knocked gently into his back. "Oh, sorry!" Said a voice.

He turned around only to be met by a very attractive young woman with brown eyes and very voluminous brown hair. "I didn't see you there." Her eyes flickered down to his waist, and he blushed slightly in confusion before she said, "I think one of my shirts is stuck on your belt loop." He looked over his shoulder and saw that the coat hanger was, in fact, attached to him. He grabbed it and put it into her hands silently, ducking his head and smiling slightly as she laughed embarrassedly.

"I was just shopping with my parents for the winter hols before school started again. Are you doing the same?" She inquired after noticing his state of attire, but didn't comment on it.

Ducking his head even further, he nodded. Usually girls didn't really talk to him, and he desperately wanted to check on Tino to see if she was okay. The pretty young woman smiled at him again. "Have you found anything you like?"

Harry blushed, and told her his predicament. She smiled again, tilting her head and said, "Well, that's easily fixed. The Women's section has button-up shirts that may fit you. You are rather thin and not as broad shouldered as some men I've met. I have a friend that keeps growing and growing, and his family isn't very wealthy so buying clothes for him is pretty hard. He just outgrows everything!" She said with laughter in her chocolate brown eyes, and Harry smiled. "My cousin is the same, but he seems to only grow sideways."

She threw her head back and laughed, almost dropping the items in her arms in mirth. "Would you like to accompany me in shopping?"

Harry grinned shyly. "Sure."

"Oh! I've forgotten to introduce myself. My name is Hermione. Hermione Granger. Sorry about that, I'm just a bit scatterbrained at the moment."

"I'm Harry."

Twenty minutes later, he had three different button-up shirts in his hand, dark grey, black, and a nice forest green. Hermione was looking through skirts and brought one that was black with little grey hearts on it to him. "Harry, look! This one would go perfectly with that shirt." She exclaimed excitedly, comparing them side by side. Harry stared at her and the articles of clothing bemusedly. "You should try them on." She grinned at his slightly shocked expression. "C'mon, I've gotten my friend Ron to try on my short-shorts before. What harm does a skirt do?" Harry rolled his eyes and took the clothes, marching himself playfully into the changing rooms.

He tried on the button-up shirts one by one, admiring the way they actually fit his small frame. He rolled up the sleeves on the grey one and, sighing, he dropped his oversized pants to try on the skirt. The waist was elastic and the fabric was soft against the palm of his hands, as he clambered into the skirt. He pulled it up over his hips, and the elastic easily hugged his small frame, giving the impression of a slightly curvy waist. His whole body tingled slightly, and he smiled at the feeling. It felt so...natural. His attention was diverted at the knock on the door.

"Harry? Did you try on the skirt yet?"

"..Yes?"

"Can I see?"

"…...Sure."

He opened the door, revealing Hermione's grinning face. She squealed quietly at his amused and pleased expression. "Oh Harry you have to get it, it looks fantastic on you!" She pushed him back into the change room. "Get dressed and we'll pay for our stuff. My mum is probably looking for me. She took the day off to do a bit of holiday shopping before Christmas too. She and my dad are both dentists." She babbled at him through the door, talking about her parents and what kind of job she might be wanting. "I'm thinking maybe something that doesn't have to do with Auror work. Ron wants to become an Auror but I think something a bit more that has to do with bridging the gap between speciesism would be good for me." That got Harry's attention.

"An Auror? What's that?"

Silence was the only thing he heard through the door. Harry blinked in confusion.

"Hermione?"

"Um, its like a special class of Law Enforcement. You said you don't live in London so maybe you don't have them in Merthyr Tydfil, was it?" She sounded nervous.

"No, I don't think so. We've only got the police."

"Oh well, some places are different than others I suppose."

"What school do you go to, Harry?" She quickly changed the subject.

"Cyfarthfa High School. My cousin and I go there together."

"What a strange name. How long does it take you to get to London for where you live?"

Harry grinned again even though she couldn't see it. She really was quite a character. "Around three hours. We're just off of Cardiff so it doesn't really take that long." He opened the door, almost making Hermione spill into the change room because she had been leaning on the door. Just as she looked up towards him, Tino had popped her head out of his sweater. He shut his eyes quickly, expecting her scream of fear or anger, but it never came. Instead, she squealed happily, jumping to her feet.

"Oh gosh what's her name? It's a she isn't it? Ron had one of these at one point, a rat, but then he kind of- I mean- lost it I guess?" She grinned, holding her hand out to Tino, which sniffed it cautiously before climbing onto her hand. "Her name is Tino. She lives in my house. I didn't want to leave her at home because we wouldn't be home for the weekend." Harry explained awkwardly. It was weird for someone else to be holding Tino, especially a girl. His aunt gave him the impression that most girls were afraid of rodents.

"Lives in your house?" She looked at him amusedly.

"Yeah. I found her after we moved in."

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows slightly as she looked at Tino, petting her softly. "Well, we should probably pay for our stuff and go. You said you had to be back to your aunt by 5?" She looked at her watch. "Its 4:57." Harry's eyes widened, grabbed his clothes and started towards the cashier. Hermione hastened to follow, handing Tino back to Harry. He paid for his clothes then hurried out of the store.

Hermione and Harry walked side by side down the London street, Harry with his shirts and skirt, and Hermione with her new jeans. Just as they rounded the corner to where he was supposed to meet Aunt Petunia, he stopped and stuck out his hand. She took it, shaking it slightly as she smiled.

"It was nice to meet you, Hermione."

"Likewise, Harry. If you ever want to talk you can email me." She pulled out a pen and wrote her email on his arm in purple ink. He smiled at her shyly as she waved at him, then turned around the corner and left.

He walked towards the car, staring at her curly handwriting. As he opened the door, Dudley sneered at him, "Why you smiling, Freak boy? Found a pretty girl?" Harry smiled lightly. 'Maybe not just a pretty girl,' He thought, 'Maybe a friend?'

And for the first time in a long time, he smiled the whole way to the hotel.


End file.
